Voice from Winter
by Poetic Devices
Summary: From her childhood, Elsa always had a guiding voice to help her when she struggled with her powers. Even when the friend that the voice belonged to was not actually there. Crossover. Started as a drabble, but worked its way into a nice little story.
1. Part 1

Elsa giggled, her five-year-old hands clumsily hurling a snowball through the trees.

"Come out from the trees, woods boy! _Please_ play! Come on Voice! I wanna have a snowball fight! _Pleeease."_

Not so far away was the funny boy who threw snowballs and played outside with Elsa every day during the winter. She called him Voice, because that was really all she knew of him. For the most part, Elsa was friends with just that - a voice. Sometimes she saw a figure flitting between the trees, climbing up the branches, and swinging his feet down from high above.

That boy was her best friend. He didn't care that Elsa had... powers. Magic. The wonderful, dangerous kind that could make detailed snowflakes and masterful snowmen with the flick of her fingers. And it could also create not so beautiful things, like terrible blizzards and ice storms, if they were ever actually provoked. Which they never were. Elsa was only five. She was all innocence. There had never yet been a winter storm created by her.

The boy in the woods laughed and watched from the trees as the little girl tossed another snowball his way. He grinned impishly and picked up a handful of snow, forming it into a perfectly round sphere. Then, with a practiced arm, he threw his snowball right at Elsa, hitting her squarely in the stomach. The girl went down with an _oomf! _She wasn't hurt, of course. In fact, all she did was laugh hysterically as she flopped down in the snow to make a snow angel. She kept on laughing until - oh, she always hated this part of the day - the sound of the boy's laughter stopped.

He must have left.

This was the routine fore Elsa. It _always _happened. She would have a few hours of happiness out in the snowy woods across the Fjord with her friend. Then the boy would leave, and Elsa would return wearily home to her two-year-old little sister, Anna. But playing in the woods was always her favorite part of the day. With no one else to talk to, Elsa would have fantastic conversations with the boy who played in the trees, sitting on the branches and watching over Elsa as she played and giggled and made beautiful ice creations with a wave of her hands.

She loved having someone to guide her through her little struggles, being the helping voice in her head when she couldn't figure something out. Elsa was happy at that age, even with her little "quirk" of being able to control ice and snow. She had a family. And she had a friend.


	2. Part 2

Fast forward a few years.

There had been an accident. Elsa never forgave herself for hurting her sister.

A snowy night in the palace, an eager Anna, and a poorly aimed blast of magic. Elsa couldn't get the memory out of her head; her sister, jumping high in the air, then falling to the ground with an icy hit to the head. Her parents tried to keep her powers under control from then on.

Wear the gloves.

Stay inside.

Conceal it, don't feel it.

_Don't. Let it. Show._

Elsa would _never _use her magic on purpose again. The gloves helped over time, and she practiced controlling herself. Staying locked up in her room was... difficult, to say the least. But her sister was safe. She missed being able to talk and play with her sister.

She missed her old friend from the woods, too. He never judged her for the things she could do, even if they _were _dangerous. Elsa missed those times during the winter, even before Anna was old enough to tag along with her, when she would go and have a snowball fight with the strange, fun boy, her first real friend. He listened to her, talked and laughed, told her stories, and even gave her advice.

_"Just remember, never try to use your powers when you're angry. People can get hurt if that kind of magic isn't used right."_

_"I promise I won't"_

_"Okay. I know you won't. Do you want to make another ice sculpture? That last one you made was so pretty, I love how you put all that detail into the horse's mane."_

_"Really? Thanks! Maybe I'll make a cat next. Cats are so cute. Or a bunny maybe."_

_The boy smiled quietly from his place up on the branch of a tree._

_"That sounds nice, Elsa."_

_"...Hey, Voice? What's wrong? You sound sad."_

_"Hmm? Nah, I'm not sad. I was just thinking... you remind me of someone I used to know. She was a lot like you, so happy and full of energy. She knew how to have fun, just like you."_

Elsa tried to smile at the memories, but then she looked over at the frosted windows of her bedroom and the ice-coated windowsill, and she forgot about her short-lived cheeriness. The sight of the ice made her grip her knees to her chest even tighter. Her control wasn't good enough.

"Just stop feeling it Elsa, don't feel" she whispered to herself. "Listen to the Voice in your head. It's telling you you'll be okay. Just calm down."

_Rap tappa tap tap_

There was a sudden knock at her door. Elsa looked away from the frosted windows to the source of the sound. An image of a boy knocking at her door appeared in her mind. Wouldn't that be great, she wondered, to have her old friend come back and tell her how to handle all of this.

"Elsa?"

It wasn't a boy's voice.

With her arms wrapped tightly around her knees, Elsa listened sadly for the question she could never answer. Tears welled up in her eyes.

"Do you want to build a snowman?"


	3. Part 3

She was twenty-one, and the new queen of Arendelle. Well, _was. _Elsa doubted she would ever go back there again. Not now, not when everyone knew. They had called her a monster, they had accused her of sorcery. It wasn't _her_ fault she was born with these powers. Years of hiding and protecting her sister, especially after her parents died, had been the most difficult job of her life. But she felt - and she hated to admit it - so much better now. She could do whatever she wanted with her powers, and no one could stop her. She was _free. _She had no one to talk to, of course, and no friends of her own. But then again, hadn't it always been like that? Except, of course, for that boy in the woods.

She wondered where he was now. Whether he still remembered her. It had been around nine or ten years since she had last seen him, after all. She missed having someone to talk to, and she missed having someone who knew about her secret without her having to even say a word.

But that was in the past.

Now, Elsa was content with where she was. She stood on the balcony of her newly constructed palace of ice overlooking the mountains, her hands resting on the frosty rail. But her contentment only lasted for a fleeting moment, because just then she heard a deep - yet somehow still impish - voice from behind her. After so long, it was still perfectly recognizable.

"It's nice. I've never seen an ice palace before. I like it."

Elsa whirled around. _I don't believe it... It's him._

She gawked, even though she couldn't see anyone.

"You _scared_ me!"

The voice gave a chuckle but said nothing else. Elsa kept talking.

"I haven't seen you in a while. How did you get here? Where have you _been_ for the past few years?"

"Sorry. A few years to me feels a lot shorter than a few years to you."

"It's been almost _ten_ _years! _I didn't even think you _remembered _me. Why are you here? And why did you never come back before now?"

"Ah, I think you're forgetting something. _You're_ the one who shut yourself inside for the past decade. I would have come to visit, but you stopped believing in yourself. Do you remember that voice in your head?"

Elsa was taken by surprise. How did _he_ know what went on in her head?

"That voice became a part of who _you_ were. When you stopped believing in yourself, you stopped believing in the Voice. You stopped believing in _me_. You see? That's why I couldn't come to visit, although I would have liked to. Your powers have obviously improved a bit." Another laugh rang in Elsa's ears.

"How did you even find me here?"

The boy was silent for a moment. Elsa was unable to see him very well from where she was. She was standing on the balcony, and the boy was leaning up against the other side of the doorway that led to the rest of the palace.

"I have ways. And an ice palace is definitely something that would catch my eye. It's a beautiful one, too. I guess you realize now, don't you? What you can do with those gifts you've got?"

Elsa's lips turned up at the sides.

"Well I... I guess I do. I never realized I could... could - "

"- could do all of this? Make something this amazing?"

The boy didn't give a second thought to interrupting Elsa. Elsa only shrugged, pulling a strand of silvery blonde hair behind her ear. She felt a little bit proud.

"Yeah. It's pretty neat, the things I found out I'm able to do. But you didn't answer my question. How did you find me here?" She cast a suspicious glance towards the silhouette of the boy standing in the doorway. From the other side, a soft clicking on the ice floor echoed through the room. Was he hitting something against the floor? The boy answered from where he was.

"I found you here, just like I found you all those times in the woods. When you went on your little adventures across the Fjord with your sister."

"What do you mean, just like all those times before? I just sort of assumed you lived near the woods and found out where we were every time we went on those... 'adventures.' And after all those times talking to you, I still don't even know your _name_."

To answer, the boy stepped out from behind the doorway and onto the balcony. Elsa gasped. She realized she had never really known what he looked like before. She'd only seen... glimpes. Just vague memories now, she thought, and she couldn't even recollect his hair color or what his eyes looked like.

Of course she didn't remember his hair color. It must have blended in so well with the snow that was always around him in the dead of winter - every time Elsa saw him. But now that she saw the boy clearly for the first time, she found that his hair _had _no color. It was pure white.

"Sorry," the white-haired boy with the powdery face and icy blue eyes said, taking another step across the balcony. In his hand swung a long wooden staff.

"I guess I should have told you my name a while ago."

He smiled gently at the girl, now all grown up, the only person in the world he had ever met with the same powers that he had.

"I'm Jack Frost."

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**A/N**

Yeah, that's it. Not a long story, but I always liked the idea of Jack and Elsa being friends. I wrote this all in a night and decided it would be good as a short-story. Thanks for reading!


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